The Rubies in the Sand
by AnnabelMinerva
Summary: Bones/The Mentalist. When a serial killer starts to leave victims on opposite sides of the country, Bones and the squints join Lisbon and her team to catch him. Brennan/Booth bien sur , Jane/Lisbon quietly
1. Chapter 1

In an office in the centre of a building, in the centre of Sacramento, Teresa Lisbon was staring out of a window. She was faintly aware of how unproductive this was. She was fairly sure she didn't care.

"Hey, boss!"

Lisbon snapped out of her reverie and turned to see who was yelling at her. Cho. Fantastic. She was not in the mood.

"What?"

"We've just caught a case."

"How do you know that before me?"

If Lisbon had been a gambler, she would have said that Cho was smiling in his head right now.

"I had a meeting with Hightower. Jane's already in the car."

Lisbon grabbed her jacket and followed Cho down to the parking lot.

Across the country, at a table in a mid-priced bar with permanently dingy lighting and the best mojitos in all DC, Brennan and Booth were having a drink together. The world at large was as it should be.

"You seen Zack recently?" Booth asked, knocking back the rest of his whisky. Brennan's eyes narrowed.

"No. I've been so busy…"

"It's alright, you know. You have time."

Brennan sipped at her wine and raised her eyebrows.

"Explain?"

"I have a sneaking feeling that we'll get a lot fewer cases after the end of May. Just seems to be how it rolls around here. You could see him them."

"I don't think-" Booth's phone rang. Before he had even begun to fumble for it, Brennan's phone was beeping as well.

"Case," they said in unison, and smiled.

Although it was already eight in the evening, it was light and cool on the beach. The yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the wind, and for a second Lisbon felt the energy drain out of her. A calm, quiet evening. Was that so much to ask from the universe, just once in a while?

"Of all the places for a murder, the beach at sunset. Glorious."

"Jane." Lisbon's voice was cool, but she was trying not to smile. "Could you at least pretend to care about the victim?"

"I can always pretend," Jane said, and scampered off towards the body. Lisbon rolled her eyes and followed.

A young, dark-haired woman was curled, foetal, and half-buried in the sand, her feet, face and hands visible. There was a long cut across her mouth and cheeks, but apart from that she seemed peaceful, as if she were sleeping.

"Rigsby? Details?"

Rigsby walked over, his notebook in hand. He looked unsettled.

"Boss…this is a weird one."

Lisbon could almost see Jane's ears pricking up, interested.

"Weird how?" Rigsby opened his mouth, but-

"The killer wanted her found," Jane said, crouching down next to the body. "He wanted us to find her, like this. She had ID in her hand, didn't she?"

"Yes, but-"

"And she was found by kids digging in the sand, right?"

"Yes. Boss-"

"Horrible. Deliberate cruelty."

"Jane, shut the hell up and let Rigsby talk, please. What's so wrong?"

"The ID."

Rigsby handed Lisbon an evidence bag with an open wallet in it. Jane stood behind Lisbon, curious. When Lisbon saw the name, her eyebrows shot up, and she had to press her lips together to keep from smiling.

"Sara Sidle? Seriously?"

"Isn't she from CSI?" Jane said, the hint of a smile on his face. "Although the vic does look remarkably like her, now you mention it."

"It was in her hand?" Lisbon asked, giving the bag back to Rigsby.

"As if it were meant to be found," Rigsby said. Cho and Van Pelt arrived, followed by a bevy of forensics guys and uniforms.

"OK. Rigsby, you and Cho go ask around, see if anyone recognises her in town. Van Pelt, get back to the office and see if this matches any known serial killers or their MOs."

"What are we going to do?" Jane asked, as the others left. Lisbon smiled at him.

"We're going to go find out who this girl is."

The woods were peaceful, quiet. The only noises were the sounds of footsteps and quiet discussion as the scene was taped off and the uniforms walked the perimeter. Brennan and Booth ducked under the tape – Brennan headed for the body, while Booth talked to the guy in charge.

The body had been that of a middle-aged woman, as far as Brennan could tell. The bones were held together by the last remnants of connective tissue, with the hands, feet and skull all separated from the rest of the body. Booth crouched down next to her.

"She was found by tourists," he said, quietly enough that the nearby crime scene guys couldn't hear them. "They pitching a tent, and they felt something crack under the pine needles. Brushed them away, and…hey presto."

"Middle-aged female, probably between forty and fifty," Brennan said, matching his quiet tone. "Given birth. Caucasian. Probably about five-three." Booth nodded.

"Let's get her to the lab, shall we?"

"I'm sorry, Ms Lisbon, but there's no Sara Sidle living here. Isn't she that girl from that TV show?"

Lisbon sighed.

"Thank you for your help, ma'am. If you remember anything, don't hesitate to call the CBI."

Lisbon and Jane walked back to the car, defeated. Or at least, Lisbon felt defeated. Jane looked delighted.

"What?"

"What what?"

"Why the smile?"

Jane only smiled wider, and opened the door for Lisbon. She nodded her thanks.

"I'm having a premonition," he said, as they pulled away from the apartment building.

"A premonition?" If Lisbon's voice sounded any more disbelieving, it would loop right back around into gullible.

"A premonition. This girl won't exist. We'll run her prints and dentals and DNA and all that shiny razzmatazz, and we'll come up empty handed."

"Sounds likely," Lisbon sighed. "Why the smile?"

"I like an interesting case," Jane said. "And this promises to be interesting."

"Sweetie."

Angela's head, seemingly disconnected from the rest of her body, poked around Brennan's door.

"Ange. Any luck?"

"Yes and no."

"How can it be yes and no? Either you found a hit or not."

"I found a hit alright. Just not one that actually works in the real world."

"Ange, you're going to have to be clearer. Metaphors aren't my strong suit. Which was itself a metaphor. The reconstruction?"

Angela flipped her sketchpad over. Her drawing was, as Brennan had expected, of a middle-aged woman. Her hair was blonde, and Angela had given her a kind, thoughtful face. As always.

"I don't see the problem, Ange."

Angela rolled her eyes.

"No, of course you don't."

Cam walked past them at that moment, and Brennan waved her over.

"Cam, why shouldn't this be right? Angela seems baffled."

Cam looked at Angela's sketch. She looked at Angela's own face, which looked puzzled. She went back to the sketch.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Checked it twice."

"Well, isn't that _weird_."

"I know, right?"

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

Brennan's voice was small but irritated.

"This woman's name was Alex Eames," Cam said, and Angela began to giggle a little.

"Why is that funny? Shouldn't that be sad? Did you know her, Cam?"

"It's funny because Alex Eames is from a cop show," Cam said patiently. "One of those police procedurals with a pair of mismatched partners, some sexual tension, a by-the-book boss…my point being, she's fictional."

"Oh." Now Brennan looked as confused as Angela. "But that isn't possible."

"That would seem to be our problem," Cam agreed, before Angela broke into giggles again.

Lisbon, now back at her desk with a mug of coffee and a headache, was trawling through case files. It was quite late now, and Jane was asleep on her couch. He slept like a dead man – perfectly still, eerily quiet.

A hit popped up in a recent folder. She opened it, and read the summary.

"Damn," she said, and rubbed her eyes. "We've got a serial killer."


	2. Chapter 2

"Jane!"

Jane rolled onto his feet smoothly.

"Lisbon. You've found our killer. Very impressive."

"Not exactly. Have a look at this."

Jane skirted around the desk and stood behind Lisbon, so close that she could feel his breath against her hair, one hand either side of her on the desk.

"Jane Doe, found near Washington DC," he read aloud. "Marked up because…the victim is fictional?"

"Sound familiar?"

Jane leaned down to whisper in her ear, and Lisbon felt a flash of emotions – intimacy, followed by irritation.

"Very."

"So let me get this straight," Booth said, leaning back on Brennan's couch. "We've got two dead women, one here, one in _California_, who were probably whacked by the same guy, and neither of whom actually exist?"

"That's it in a nutshell," Brennan agreed. Booth sighed.

"Bones, you do realise what this means?"

Brennan bit her lip thoughtfully.

"A dangerous serial killer, and, most likely, a string of corpses from here to the Pacific?"

"Nope. Jurisdiction arguments. What time is it in Sacramento?"

"Midnight."

"They'll still be up. Can I borrow your phone?"

Brennan nodded and sank into the couch. Booth sat down in her swivel chair and punched in the CBI number, which was at the bottom of the Sidle case file.

"Special Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI."

"Special Agent Seeley Booth. FBI."

"Oh. Do you know what time it is, Agent Booth?"

"Goddamn late at night. Listen, are you the one who caught that Sara Sidle murder?" Booth tried to be polite. He mainly failed.

"That's me."

"I'm in DC. My partner and I-"

"-found the Law and Order corpse. I know."

"You thinking serial?"

"It had crossed my mind."

"Any leads? My side of Vegas would be preferable."

"Nada. You?"

"Nothing."

"Damn. Until we find another one…"

"Yeah. Look, keep us posted, we'll keep you posted."

"Sounds good."

"Thanks. I-"

"Booth." Brennan caught his attention, and he hung up.

"What?"

"We just found another one."

The site was just where West Virginia meets Ohio, and Booth and Brennan had to drive for hours to reach it. By the time they arrived, they were both highly caffeinated.

"What've we got?" Booth asked the local sheriff.

"Two females," he said, leading them into the woods. "That's all we could get before people started throwing up. It's…nasty."

"Nasty. Our favourite."

The sheriff wasn't kidding. The woods opened up, and, lying on the bank of the lake, were two semi-decomposed bodies. Booth grimaced.

"Oh, jeez. You know, I prefer them when they're skeletons."

Brennan ignored him and knelt down beside the bodies.

"Definitely female. One's around forty, and I'd say the other's between thirty and thirty-five. One blonde, one brunette. The brunette was slightly taller – maybe five eight? Blonde's about five seven."

Booth nodded and wrote it down.

"Any clues?"

Brennan peered at the closer skeleton's shoulders.

"Bullet wound. Not new – there's significant remodelling."

"Blonde or brunette?"

"Blonde. The brunette has occupational markers. She ran a lot. Probably very strong too."

"Am I imagining it, or are they holding hands?"

Brennan stood up to get a better view, and nearly crashed into Booth. He caught her by the waist, and they stood like that for a moment, looking at the corpses.

"I think you are correct," Brennan said. "They may have been posed."

"Hey, sheriff?" Booth yelled. "Great stinking corpses and all, but why did we get called out here in the middle of the goddamn night?"

"We found ID."

The sheriff handed Booth an evidence bag with a tattered Polaroid inside.

"Ah," Booth said, and handed it to Brennan.

It was of two women, one a smartly dressed blonde, one a casual brunette. The blonde had longer hair, which was fluttering in the breeze of the photo, and square, black glasses. The brunette had her arm around the blonde's waist; they were both smiling, content, and their heads were so close that their hair was tangled together.

Brennan flipped the photo over. On the back, someone had written a caption.

'Alex and Liv. NYC, June, 2009'.

Lisbon had fallen asleep at her desk, but woke up on her couch, with a quilt thrown over her.

"Jane?"

She got up, yawned, and headed for the kitchen. It was about five a.m.

"Lisbon," he said, appearing from nowhere. "Coffee?"

They sat down, and Jane handed Lisbon a mug.

"Careful. It's hot."

"I'm a grown-up, Jane. I can cope with coffee."

"No-one can cope with coffee. That stuff will kill you."  
"Too early for jokes. How's the case going?"

"The delightful Agent Booth phoned again while you were asleep. They found two more in West Virginia."

"Oh, no. Which show?"

"Guess."

"I'm not in the mood for games, Jane."

"I'll give you clues."

Lisbon sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

"A blonde and a brunette."

"Too broad."

"They sort of work together."

"What, like we sort of work together? Keep going."

"Prime time. Part of a franchise. They were found holding hands and wearing the same necklace."  
"Oh." Comprehension dawned on Lisbon's face. "Alex and Olivia, right?"

"I did not have you pegged for an SVU girl," Jane said, grinning.

"No? What did you expect?"

"_Castle_."

"I do like that. I'm hoping we won't find any Kate Beckett between here and Ohio."

"You sympathise with her," Jane said. "Dealing with a difficult but roguishly handsome consultant day in, day out."

Lisbon swatted him, but she was smiling.

"How are we doing?"

Booth and Brennan looked up to see Cam leaning on Brennan's doorframe. Even after a trying night, she thought, these two are wrapped up in each other. Brennan was sitting so close to Booth that their legs were touching, and Booth had his left hand on Brennan's knee.

"Not well," Brennan said.

"They aren't the actors who play the characters and they aren't impersonators. We've called half the plastic surgeons in Hollywood, and none of them remember copying these faces. We've got nothing." Booth threw the file down in disgust.

"I might just be able to help with that," Cam said, and walked out of the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Booth and Brennan followed Cam into Angela's office, where Hodgins was perched on a desk next to Angela. She was fiddling with her computer.

"What've you got?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, hey, sweetie. Any luck?"

"Nothing."

"OK. Well, I looked at our photos, and I noticed something." A photo of the Sacramento corpse, the photo from the Ohio corpses and Angela's reconstruction flashed up on the screen. She pulled the photograph to the foreground.

"So we found these two posed like lovers, right? So I did some research. Apparently, the group that ships them is pretty tight."

"Ships?" Brennan and Booth asked in unison. Angela waved a dismissive hand.

"It's an internet thing. My point being, once I realised that, I had another look at the other two."

She showed them the crime scene photos from the Sacramento corpse.

"She's not wearing a wedding ring, see? But there's a tan line, so she probably wore one when she was alive. And here," she said, handing them an evidence bag, "we found this in amongst the bones from your first vic."

The little bag had a locket inside. It was open, but the photograph was badly damaged.

"I cleaned up that image, and we got this."

It was a photograph very similar to the one found at the Ohio scene – the victim, looking distinctly more alive, was standing with a taller man, who had his arm around her shoulder. The man must have been about fifty, with short grey hair.

"Ange, I'm not going to get the significance of anything to do with a television show. I don't watch television."

But Cam had snapped her fingers, understanding.

"Damn. I ought to have seen that."

"It took me a while. It wasn't until Hodgins came in that I got it."

"Got what?" said Booth.

Cam grinned.

"All you need is love."

"Thanks."

Lisbon put the phone down, and turned back to Jane, who had his fingers to his temples.

"Another body? No, don't tell me…Utah? No? Closer? Idaho? Further?"

"Arizona," Lisbon said. "You and I are going on a field trip. Tell the others to hold down the fort."

They drove for hours, and when Lisbon looked in danger of falling asleep at the wheel, Jane took over. Lisbon slept with her head against the window, and Jane turned off the radio to let her get some rest. It took them most of the day to get to where they were going, and when they arrived, the crime scene was already being vacated.

"Lisbon, CBI."

"CBI?"

"Don't ask. Where's the body?"

The local cop looked sheepish.

"It's already been taken."

"By who?"

"Some hot scientist chick and her FBI partner."

"Booth," Lisbon and Jane said in unison.

"What, Bones?"

Booth came to stand next to his partner. She had all of her hair swept up into a ponytail, but some of it had escaped at the front. He tucked a strand behind her ear.

"Thanks. I can't do that with gloves on."

For a second, they just smiled at each other. Then Brennan cleared her throat.

"She's Middle Eastern, and I found this tucked into the remains of her shirt. I think she's been dead about a week, but the scavengers picked her to pieces."

She handed him an evidence bag. In one corner, a thin silver chain was coiled around a Star of David. Booth sighed.

"This'll be what tipped the locals off. Do you need a name?"

"Other than Jane Doe?"

"Ziva David," Booth said, and Brennan wrote it down.

"We ought to phone the CBI."

"No need," Lisbon said. Brennan looked up from her clipboard to see Lisbon and Jane standing in the doorway of the dingy morgue.

"Teresa Lisbon," she said, and shook Booth's hand.

"Seeley Booth. That's my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"Patrick Jane," Jane said, and offered his hand.

"Now we're all introduced, what have we got?"

Brennan and Booth filled them in. Lisbon nodded gravely.

"Have we had any luck with COD?" she asked.

"Poison," Jane and Brennan said in unison. Booth raised his eyebrows.

"I get how Bones knows that, but what about you, Mr…Consultant?"

"Unobtrusive way to kill them," Jane said. "Our killer wanted to leave them as close to the way they were in the fiction as possible."

"Don't let him trick you. Our coroner told us it was poison," Lisbon said, and Booth grinned.

"Bones?" Jane said, amused.

"Nickname," Brennan said shortly.

"Sweetie?"  
On Brennan's laptop screen, Angela waved at them.

"Oh, hey Booth. And who else have we got here?"

Lisbon and Jane introduced themselves. Angela beamed.

"Why the smile, Ange?"  
"I found your victims," she said.

Everyone looked surprised, even Jane.

"Don't get too excited. I still don't know who the CSI girl is, or whoever it is you've got there. But the Law and Order vics had DNA in the system."

"Who are they?"

"Our Eames is Marianne Kettering, from Iowa. I'm pinging you a photo, so you can see what she really looked like. Her hair was dyed, and she had pretty minor plastic surgery, but on the whole she really did look a lot like the original."

"And the others?"

"Georgia Simon – Benson - was a Marine. Here's where it gets interesting. Care to take it away, Hodgins?"

Hodgins walked into frame.

"Hey, Dr. B. I found pupae from a _regina orealis _in the first corpse. These beauties are only found in one place in all of the US – one small town in Minnesota. So Angie and I did some research, and we found out that this town is famous for two reasons. The first is the bug."

"And the second?" Lisbon asked.

"A hotel," Angela said.

"A hotel?" Jane raised his eyebrows.

"Famous for its couples' counselling. So we checked the guest list for this last month, and just _guess_ who was on it?"

"Our vics," Lisbon and Booth said in unison.

"Hole in one," Hodgins said.

Jane grinned.

"Looks like we're headed to Montana."


End file.
